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Spirit Lion (Full Book)
Spirit Lion is complete is available on Wattpad. Check it out here: (if you can't click the link copy and paste it into the search bar) https://www.wattpad.com/story/178008780-spirit-lion Don't have Wattpad? A preview of the prologue is listed down below :) The Lions of Oizon #1: Spirit Lion Prologue The high sun cast large rays of sunlight toward the center of a grassland in the southern Mudlands. The acacias rustled in the heavy breeze, the windswept grass dancing. Great, lithe shapes padded across the yellow grass, the heat from the sun pulsing their paws. They leaned back, snarling, fangs glinting. "Our time has finally come." Spat a gigantic, battle scarred male with a massive, tangled mane. "the Mudlands will be ours!" Another tremendous lion gracefully leaped across from him, fire in his brown gaze. "Never in the name of the spirits! This territory belongs to us. You ruthless rogues don't belong here!" He lifted his thickset shoulders. The battle-scarred lion yawned casually and shot a smug look. The other lions behind him, their ribs jutting from beneath their ragged pelts, laughed greedily. "We'll fight you to the death, then, cowards. Only strong, battle-ready lions belong in the mudlands, and don't you forget!" His malevolent gaze sparkled mischievously. "Do you back down?” He shook his stocky head. “We’ll kill you either way.” On the other side, a sleek lioness padded from behind the burly one. Her eyes were full of anxious fire, and her teeth were bared in a half-snarl, half-yelp. Her paws squelched in the moist, muddy ground, which this southeast region was named for. "Never, you maniacs!" The huge male villainous lion shook his head, his puffy, blood-stained mane jiggling. "Okay, then, we've decided." He snarled. He twitched his tail in signal, claws scraping the green-yellow grass. "FIGHT! BLOODNECKS! FIGHT! The clearing erupted into a mass of snarling, screeching shapes, moving nimbly over the territory as they unsheathed their claws, curled back their lips, and launched themselves into combat, squirming and rolling in the claws of the enemy. A muscular, half-grown bloodneck lion hurled himself across a dry, lifeless stretch of land. His claws were unsheathed, curling slightly at the tips. A proud fighter he was, quick in battle and strong in blows. This was a fight he could not lose. A fight to the death. His pride dependent on him. The maddened bloodnecks outnumbered them heavily, and as strong as they were, they had no intelligence. Their ribs were visible beneath their stained, tattered pelts despite the warm weather and plentiful prey. Their land was scarce. They had been banished from the mainlands by the governor pride of royal lions, therefore having to retreat to the nastiest, measliest territory in the whole kingdom of Oizon. Across from the Mudlander, a bony, scrawny, maddened lioness opened her mouth and bellowed, her lips dry and her teeth cracked and yellow. Immediately, the lion sprang a little clumsily. He landed on top of the lioness, nails slashing across her narrow belly. She recovered quickly, rising from the embracers nasty claws and swatting vigorously at the male’s eye. She successfully dealt a blow, and the lion backed away, startled, as blood dripped from his right eye. His gaze was dull and veiny, but he would not give up the fight. He sprang again, which the lioness expected, and barreled over to the side, jumping yet again. This one-on-one battle continued for some time.' In a tiny, peaceful area lined with the softest of savanna grasses, a bloodneck lioness was taunting a male Mudland lion. Her claws were unsheathed, her nails sinking into the pulpy grass. She lowered herself, twitching her tail in determination. "Mangy freak!" She taunted. "I bet you couldn't fight if you tried." Without hesitation. The Mudlander launched himself onto the lioness's back, biting and squirming as he tried to sink his teeth into her neck-flesh. She shook him off as if he were an annoying fly. "hah!" she laughed, and lounged for his back in an elegant manner. He rolled swiftly, anger broiling in his veins. He saw his quarry, blood trickling from a tiny scratch on her forehead, and then when she was licking blood from her paw, he launched himself onto her throat once more. It was too late for her to dodge. Easily, he leaped right into the middle of her neck, and then bit as hard as his jaws could manage. Thick, gooey blood trickled down it, and she fell to the ground with a painful gasp. It then came out in massive gushes, seeping effortlessly from the slash in which claw marks lay. "You were the one who couldn't fight!" hissed the young male. As the bloodneck’s lifeblood spewed out of her gaping wounds, dying, some lion-lengths away in the middle of a savanna, Mudland lions ambushed a senior Bloodneck, massacring him. One leaped for his chest, and the others his back, dragging him down as if he was a helpless zebra. After defeating the sickly male, they backed off, leaving his reddened body in the field. The nearby grass pulsed with blood. Several yards away, another one-on-one battle was taking place. A young, immature male Mudlander spun around, teeth bared. "You won't hurt my kin!" The young lion spat, saliva trickling down his muzzle. "I won't let you!" He bared his fangs, staring at the fiend with determination and anxiety. The only thing visible in the Bloodneck's gaze was vile anger. "I sure will," he smirked. "And you're my first target." Pouncing for the bloodneck, the Mudlander slashed his claws into the air, trying to sink them into the Bloodneck’s body. His opponent dodged simply, rolling to the side. When the young adult lion was unaware, panting with exhaustion, a large shadow crept above him, landing on him swifly. The Mudlander felt pain crawl through his tail as teeth ripped into it, dragging him down. His head smashed into the ground, his brain swimming. Dizziness overtook him, and he could not fight back. He could not move. Blood escaped from his wound, and the bone cracked, making the lion screech. Claws and teeth rummaged into his neck, and his breath rasped in his throat, failing to escape his lungs. He knew this was the end of him. His pride would suffer as a whole. If only he hadn’t been so clumsy. If only he hadn’t hesitated… He couldn’t take it anymore! His thoughts grew muddled, his pain fading, and his eyes drooped shut. At last, the slashing, biting, and clawing had been cut off completely, and the lion was gone as sheer blackness swam through his head. ' Category:Pages